1. PIERO PICCIONI MISSIONE MORTI MOLO 83

    A book called Death and The Dolce Vita- by Stephen Gundle, was released this year- it details the decay of post WW2 Italy and the seeming panacea of Celebrity.

    For those that love the urbane decay of celebrity and all it flotsam, like I do, this is a good book; light on style, but stuffed with intrigue and masqueraded fact. Its kernel is the death of a 21-year-old girl called Wilma Montesi.

    From Roman suburbia, Montesi had aspirations at short-circuiting the mainstream and hitting hard on fame and, as is kind of the way of things, this led to being led on by the most peripheral and quixotic of beau brummels.

    Enter stage right a certain Piero Piccioni.

    I’ve blogged some of Piccioni’s music before, but hitherto I’d never known he was implicated, knee deep it seems, in the death of Wilma Montesi. It caused a bit of media frenzy at the time- not because of his own fame, he had just started composing at the time- but largely as his father was a senior figure in the then Christian Democratic party.

    Little Piero was allegedly hell bent on living by the hell fire. He roamed the swanky Via Veneto (immortalised in Fellini’s La Dolce Vita) and the bohemian quarter around Via Margutta.

    Gundle, as Fellini depicted, details that the night-life around these two areas normally consisted of drugs and drinking, then, among some and sometimes, moving onto an orgiastic Bacchanalia at some aristocrat’s rural tumbledown mansion. Sounds rubbish.

    Cough.

    Piero got off in the end and the scandal was largely forgotten, at least outside of Italy.

    So, Piero.

    The dirty rascal.

    So after all that natter, a peach of a wee song;  from his soundtrack to the film Missione Morti Molo 83.

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